


Teeth (drabble)

by fvckingavengers



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Drabble, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:54:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24077839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fvckingavengers/pseuds/fvckingavengers
Summary: so this is a drabble request from tumblr for the song Teeth by 5 Seconds of Summer - which I already have a fic with the same name. but here's some winter soldier material for y'all. enjoy :)
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 44





	Teeth (drabble)

You’re a mystery to him.

Hydra had kept him in captivity for so long, and when they did let him let him loose, he usually worked alone or with a heap of men tailing behind him. He’d never seen anything like you.

He doesn’t know how to act when they send you both on a month long mission in Amsterdam. They make sure you’re comfortable, set you up in an apartment near the water. An upscale place. Nicer than the Soldier had ever seen, let alone stayed in.

He keeps to himself. It was habit. Being social wasn’t in his nature.

He’s drawn to your beauty. As he figures most are. You move exquisitely on and off the field. Graceful as a ballerina, deadlier than a grenade. 

He notices that you’re amused by him. His awkwardness, his timidness.

“I’m not gonna bite, you know.” You look up at him over your laptop screen, your eyes illuminated by the brightness. “Unless you ask me to.”

You’re playful. It catches him off guard.

“And what if I want you to?”

His voice is raspy and hoarse from not being used in God knows how long. He’s almost surprised by his own question. The words came from his mouth but it’s as if someone else was speaking. Maybe him in his former life.

The corner of your mouth curls up into a small smirk and it ignites something within him. “Well then something can be arranged.”

-

Greedy hands and heavy breathing.

The events that led up to this moment has escaped him. He couldn’t find it in him to care, but he was silently thanking whatever deity that would listen.

You’re both set to return back to the base tomorrow. Neither of you discuss the lack of desire to fall back into your regular routines. Hell, there was never really much discussion in the entire 30 days you’d spent together other than a quick briefing on the task at hand or the occasional playful banter that happened maybe once a week.

You’re both fresh from the fight. Dirt and grime coated on your skin along with the random splotch of blood, unknown if it belonged to either of you or any of the men you’d killed an hour prior.

Clothes scattered on the floor carelessly. You were too consumed with the way his hands gripped your hips and he with the way your tongue expertly explored his mouth.

He peeks an eye open, coming to the realization he’s in the bedroom you’d claimed. It has a view of the bay and the sky is painted in pink and orange.

He turns you so that your back is against his chest. His hands grope your tits and his beard scratches against your shoulder blade while his soft lips kiss the side of your neck. You feel his hard on against your back and he guides you to the large windows overlooking the water.

“Fuck,” You curse when he deftly works your clit between his fingers.

He hums from deep in his chest at the feeling of your slick covering his hand.

“Don’t tease.” You grit through your teeth.

He laughs. Actually laughs at your words. He dips a finger into your cunt and almost busts his nut when you constrict around him.

“You’ve been teasing me for the past month and you hadn’t even known it.” He noses the back of your ear and takes it between his teeth.

It was your turn to laugh. It was soft, but melodic.

“I knew.”

Your confession made his jaw clench and within a second, his finger was replaced with his cock.

A scream echos around the walls from the sudden protrusion. Your head is tugged to the side by your hair and he keeps you steady with an arm wrapped just under your breasts.

“You were doing it on purpose the entire time?” He grunts over the sound of skin slapping skin.

“Yeah,” You grin. “Took you long enough to do something about it.”

You hiss when he slaps your ass and presses your face against the glass. He doesn’t let up until he’s close enough to taste the sweet release of tension that had been building.

You go at it four more times that night until neither of you have the energy to go anymore.

When morning comes, he wakes groggily, laying on his stomach on your bed with no trace you’d been there.

There wasn’t even a trace that you’d been in the apartment at all. No clothes, no weapons, nothing. He wonders if he’d finally gone mad and made you up in his head. Wonders if you were a fever dream. 

He wonders this the entire flight back to the compound until he sees you in passing to his quarters. Sees the mark he’d left on the side of your neck. Recognizes his teeth marks that are still dented into your flesh.

You say nothing. Only make eye contact for a split second before your handler hauls you into your own room.

The memory flashes in his mind. Makes him smile.

-

He hasn’t seen you in three weeks. He doesn’t realize he’d been counting the days until night you go to him.

It’s late. Way after hours. He wonders how you managed to sneak past the cameras, but the thought is short lived when your mouth latches onto his throat and your hands pull his t-shirt over his head.

“What are you doing here?” He whispers, hand tangling in your hair and keeping you at arms length.

Your eyes are dark, clouded by lust. The stare through him. His dick hardens in his pants from the memory of your last night together. The reflection of your eyes in the window he held you against as he pounded into you.

“You telling me you didn’t miss me?”

There it is. The playfulness. The teasing.

“You telling me you missed _me_?” He retorts.

You grin devilishly and shake your head. “No. But I did miss this,” you coo, dipping your fingers into his waistband and tugging his pants down his thighs. 

“Jesus, fuck,” He gasps, releasing a shaky breath when you engulf him into the warmth of your mouth.

He wishes he knew your name. Wishes he had something to call you.

The sounds echoing the room are _obscene_. The gagging and slurping around his length are too much for him. He whimpers and you’re elated, taking him further into your mouth until your nose is buried in the curls below his belly.

His teeth bite so harshly into his bottom lip that he bleeds from trying to stay quiet. He bucks his hips up and starts a slow rhythm of thrusting into your mouth until his movements become too erratic to control. With one hand gripping the back of your head and the other nearly ripping his sheets, he spews his seed, and you swallow down every drop.

He lets his eyes flutter closed as he gasps for air, his chest heaving. He’s a little dramatic but it makes you huff out a breathy laugh. He watches through lidded eyes as you compose yourself and peek your head out the door to check for any lurking henchmen.

“Sweet dreams, Soldat.” You wink before disappearing into the hallway.

He lets his head fall back on his pillow and sighs, running his flesh hand down his face. “She’s not gonna let me make it outta here alive.” 

-

The dungen-esque training room is cold. Its musky and damp and dull and gray. The Soldier hates this place. Despises being made an example for the others. Rumlow looks too pleased for comfort. He stands by the doors with his arms crossed over his chest. He’s been waiting for what feels like hours to begin his session. He just assumes he’s being tested.

“There she is.” Brock beams.

Bucky looks up and furrows his brow. You’re the last person he expected to see. The way Rumlow eye fucks you makes his blood boil.

He stands from the bench his ass had been warming and waits for instruction.

“Fight.”

Bucky makes the mistake of overthinking.

Was this a punishment? Had you gotten caught sneaking out of his room the night before?

You deck him in the cheek, uppercut to the jaw, and before he can react, you’ve got him on the floor with your legs cutting off his air supply.

He doesn’t want to do this. Doesn’t want to hurt you. He doesn’t even know if you’re in your right mind or if they threw you in that godforsaken chair before sending you here.

He taps on your thigh but you only squeeze tighter.

“Fight back.” You grit out from behind your teeth.

He exhales sharply through his nose and pries your legs apart, rolling you over onto your back and pinning you under his body, wrists constrained and chest heaving.

He sees it. The glimmer in your eyes that lets him know you’re there.

“Don’t play with her. Give her what she wants.” Rumlow snickers from his side of the room.

“Yeah, Soldier,” you croon, back arching off of the concrete floor. “Gimme what I want.”

He doesn’t mistake the smirk that graces your features. If you want it, he’ll give it to you, alright.

He’s careful of your face, but he batters and bruises your body from the neck down.

“Alright. Enough. Hit the showers.” Brock grumbles when he’s gotten tired of making his test subjects squirm.

Before he can get too far, you yank the Soldier’s arm and pull him close, keeping your eyes on Rumlow while you speak.

“There’s gonna be an opportunity to escape tonight.” Finally, you look him in the eyes. “Take it. Or else all the punishment I’m gonna go through will be for nothing.”

He wants to argue. Wants to ask so many questions. But he doesn’t. He clenches his jaw and nods, watching as you once again disappear from view.

-

You come to him in flashes.

Memories of what was and thoughts of what could’ve been. He finds himself wondering what kind of torture you endured that night.

_His heart pounds inside of his chest. The alarms blaring mask the sound of his feet slamming against the concrete floor. He wants to go back for you. Beg you to go with him. No one should have to live in captivity the way you two do._

_A scream echos through the corridors and it makes him ache. They caught you. Whatever diversion you planned let him get to the doors unnoticed, but it would only be a matter of minutes until they realized he’d fled._

“Fuck,” Bucky groans, pinching the bridge of his nose to relieve the pressure building in his skull.

Steve looks over at his friend slumped in the chair across from him. He folds the newspaper in his hands and takes a long sip from his coffee mug.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Fine.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Not now.”

The answer was always the same. Steve wasn’t in the position to push him though he so badly wanted to know what Bucky kept in the nooks and crannies of his mind.

“You know I’m here when you do.” Steve gives a soft, reassuring smile. Theres a twinge of pain behind it that Bucky picks up on.

He forces a small smile and nods. “Thanks, pal.”

-

Every night is the same.

Him and Steve have a couple drinks, numbing themselves just so they can relax enough to try and get some rest. They retire to their respective bedrooms and Bucky stays up til 2 am. He fists his cock just to get to sleep. The images are always of you.

His eyes are shut tight and his grunts are soft and muffled. A light sheen of sweat covers his naked body and his hair sticks to his forehead.

“Goddamn it.” He whimpers, giving up when his wrist cramps up too much for him to continue.

He wants to break the lamp on his bedside table. Wants to punch through the drywall just to break his frustration.

“Need a hand?”

Bucky gasps and fumbles to turn the light on. He squints, trying to decipher if what he’s seeing is a mirage of his late night delirium.

“Missed me?” Your lips curl upward and it makes his length twitch. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

You’re dressed in all black, but it’s not the uniform he was used to seeing you in. A flows t-shirt and leggings. Just enough to keep you hidden in the shadows. 

“Are you real?” He doesn’t realize he’s verbally asked the question until you laugh as you approach him.

“As real as you want me to be.” Your voice is like velvet. You kneel between his parted legs and look up at him, pouty lips and just looking like _sin_.

He reaches out and pulls you to him, lips crashing violently and hands gripping harshly.

He feels clarity with you. Feels like he can finally breathe after being suffocated for the months since he’d left.

He’s so consumed in his thoughts that he doesn’t even realized that you’ve shed your clothing until his back rests against his headboard and you’re straddling his hips. His hands dig into the flesh of your ass as you sink down on his dick.

The pain he inflects upon you feels so damn good that you almost lose yourself in him just as much as he does you.

“Missed this,” you whisper, cradling his neck and holding him to your chest. “Missed you, Soldat.”

“Bucky,” his words are muffled against your tit as he suckles it. He looks up at you through his lashes and laps at the hardened peak. “My name is Bucky.”

You repeat his name and he almost combusts from the sound of it rolling off your tongue. He kisses you and it makes your head spin. So deep and intimate, longing. He swallows each sound you make and the way your walls clamp around him informs him of just how close you are to breaking.

He ruts up into you, no longer caring if the bed squeaking and lust filled noises wake Steve from his slumber. Bucky rubs his calloused thumb against your clit and that’s the moment where you fall over the edge. He holds you through your orgasm and fills you with his own.

You fuck two more times before the sun comes up. He’s half asleep when you redress yourself but becomes alert when you open his window.

“Wait,” He beckons, wrapping his sheet around his waist and following after you. “Stay.” His eyes are pleading.

“I can’t.” You sigh. “Your friend is hunting me down.” You look over to Steve’s room.

“You’re still with Hydra?” He whispers, a crease forming between his brows. You nod. “We can help you. Get you out of there. You can stay.”

You silence him, pressing a firm kiss to his lips. Letting it linger for a moment too long. “You’ll see me again.” You both know your promise is uncertain, yet it still gives him butterflies. “Until next time, Bucky.”


End file.
